The Great Despair of the Prickly Pear

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She eventually broke free
Into the blackest of nights
Amidst spindly clutching limbs
Which sought to give her a good fright

Tearing at her thin gown
Scratching her pure white skin
She felt the malicious branches
With every step she’d begin

And yet without the cure
She knew he’d never survive
And she’d vowed to protect him
For the remainder of his life

The evil continued to swell
Gathering momentum from every angle
The lashing of the wind
Seeking to torture and mangle

She finally found herself
Facing the enchanted tree
Speaking in hushed tone
She took to her knee

She began to plead with the tall giant
To release his spikey pomes
And although she was frantic in mind
She willed her demeanor to remain calm

Understanding her terrible plight
The tree whispered in her ear
Comforting her fearful heart
While protecting and gathering her near

Soon the tree began to weep
Right along with the grief-stricken girl
And as the boughs held her close
A great magic began to unfurl

Suddenly crystalline rays
Filled the starless space
While leaf covered arms
Shielded her face

Soon a pear-shaped fruit
Sparkling like a gem
Dropped to the ground
Barely touching her tattered hem

Instantly her nightgown
Turned into a dress fit for a queen
The power of this unusual fruit
Could now be clearly seen

So she thanked the tall giant
And gathered the illuminating jewel
Determined to reach her love in time
Knowing exactly what she had to do

Cutting off a tiny sliver
Touching the life-giving morsel to his lips
He began to rouse from death’s doorstep
Where he’d sadly begun to slip

Instantly cured
By the magical fruit
She wondered if his love
Would now take even deeper root

Yet in curing his body
His soul became cursed
And she couldn’t figure out
Which was worse

He couldn’t even remember
Her words of adoration
And he became bitter and unkind
Now cursed with frustration

So although her promise to him
Had never been broken
And even though she’d at last
Proved her love and devotion

He became lost to her
In this tragic turn of events
And to this very day
She still solemnly laments

© 2018 Michelle Cook


For a month full of writing prompts click here!  Prickly Pears

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